Editor’s Note: I wrote this travelogue-style essay in November 2018, while visiting my daughter Caroline during her service with Peace Co...

My friend Alan as a young boy, standing on his uncle's shoulders in Brazil, ready to leap into his future, with many cousins in the backg...

Is it a freshwater pond? If so, is the water stagnant and murky, or clear, with light dancing on its surface? Maybe the body of water is ...

Whenever I’m learning a new skill – let’s say, how to properly document a sea turtle nest, surf tiny waves, or make toast without burning...

“It’s just that my protagonist doesn’t want her brother to die,” I told a traveling companion at a café in Kathmandu. “I think it might b...

The struggle was real. After reading my forthcoming novel, City in a Forest, an editor whose opinion I trust (Kim Sheeter) pointed out th...

In my third novel, Seeing Gethin, my protagonist’s brother is crazy about snakes—brown, red, spotted, striped, harmless, venomous, or inv...

My goal, in this nonfiction essay, was to provide a first-hand report on what Russ Douthat described in The New York Times as the 1970s c...

“You need to find her gun and hide it,” my sister mumbled while our mother, propped in a hospital bed, prattled on about finding Bigfoot....

Based on my partner’s encounter with U.S. Customs officials at Dulles airport, this essay is a romantic exploration of the discrimination...

At her neck’s nape, the red splotch still lurks, a sunny chick’s fuzz covers the scar of snarling angels, roaring, refusing her newborn r...